Only You (And You Alone)
by Devilbladed
Summary: It was over a month after Noctis had brought Divine Judgment down on Ardyn, but even with the Scourge gone and the dawn returned to Eos, Ignis couldn't go back to Insomnia. Neither could Prompto. They had their own daemons too great to expunge, though the daemons quieted in the presence of the other. The saying held true after all. Ignis x Prompto. Smut. Alt Timeline. Some Humor.
1. Ignis

**Author's Note:** So! This story is actually part of a bigger project I have in the works, which was in its outline/draft stages when _certain two characters_ blindsided me with their chemistry. While chatting about the pairing on a Discord server during Christmas Eve, I asked "Prompto+Ignis smut, who want?" and my friend, enabler that she is, said "I WANT" and so, here it is. This first chapter ("Only You") is from Ignis's point of view. The second chapter ("You Alone") is the same event, but from Prompto's point of view, hence similar wordings and identical dialogue in places. However, what either of them reveal about their past within their thought process is different, so hopefully the second chapter isn't treated like an excuse to copy-paste. Okay? Okay.

Special thanks to Rikusqueenofhearts for being that enabler that motivated me to write this. Much love!

* * *

Night had fallen upon Lestallum, but after ten whole years of no dawn to even speak of, it still took a little convincing to believe that the nightfall would only be _temporary_. It was over a month after Noctis had brought to bear the full power of the Crystal upon the Plague incarnate, and paid with his life to fix what amounted to a quarrel between the gods that the humans had nothing to do with. All because of things that had been done, actions that had been decided long before he or anyone he knew was even born.

Ignis would have liked to say he wasn't still affected by it, but he would have lied if so. He _was_. Especially when losing Noctis came with losing Prompto as well. The ache of it still struck from time to time.

He couldn't return to Insomnia. Not after what had happened there. Besides, he was too used to his apartment in Lestallum. He'd lived in it for ten years, and those years were the ones he spent helping the people harvest power from the Meteor, eventually being eased (or convinced or tricked, depending on the interpretation) into performing so-called "administrative duties" and "diplomatic relations". That mostly involved convincing the people huddled together in one city that it no longer made sense to hold animosity against each other based on what patch of dirt they were born on; the Starscourge didn't discriminate on who it infected no matter how much they'd will it to work otherwise. They got the hint well enough after some years of cohabitation with former 'enemies', but…

What else could he do?

To go back to Insomnia was to remind himself of the things he no longer had.

So he stayed in Lestallum, where he gained things instead of lost. Work the same as he had all these years; early mornings, long hours, late nights. The streets were filled with nothing more but the whistle of the wind and distant music as he made his way to his home. He'd opened the door to silence, ascended the steps, went to his bedroom, same as always.

The bedroom was colder than he'd left it. That was the first thing he had noticed. He wrote it off as the ghost of things that were no longer there. It happened sometimes, merely the mind playing its tricks, same as when it caused skin to tingle as if insects were marching atop it when no such thing was there. He felt a cold that wasn't there.

He stood in front of the dresser and placed his keys down. The thought flit past that he shouldn't have bothered coming home. All he was doing was preparing for another night where he attempted in vain to push all of his failures from his mind until sleep was merciful and pulled him under, to know nothing more until the early morning again.

What was the point?

"You usually work this late?" The voice came from nearby, where the bed was.

He didn't will it; a blank expression came over him like a mask and the blood turned to ice in his veins to protect him from that voice. He was hallucinating now, was that what it had come to? Hearing Prompto as if he were there with him?

"Yes. A lot of work needs to be done, still. The rebuilding effort in Insomnia is ongoing. As more homes are remade, more people return to them." Entertain the voice, respond to it, perhaps it will go away.

"Then why aren't you in Insomnia?"

"There's nothing waiting for me there. You know that."

"Yeah… I do." The bed creaked as weight shifted on it. "Is it too late for me to say 'Sorry'?"

Ignis wasn't sure if Prompto could see him in the dark. If he did, he would note the chip in the mask, the way Ignis froze mid-motion for the second it took to realize that it wasn't a figment he was speaking to, before he completed the action and removed his tie, folding it neatly and setting it into the drawer.

"It would be, if there were anything to apologize for," Ignis said after a time. "The decision to stay was mine to make, as was yours to leave."

A breathy laugh. Sounded like a smirk came with it. "You've got a point there."

Ignis held his tongue; the thoughts blew about in his mind like a gale. He wouldn't let them out. He had done that and- and- he'd felt like such an utter _fool_ back then _._ Noctis was _dying,_ he was dying and they were all losing him, Ignis and Gladio and everyone that had come to believe in their King and vowed to fight the darkness in his name until he returned, they were all losing Noctis, but instead of keeping a calm disposition and show fealty to his King like he'd sworn, what broke Ignis and made him spill his guts out and consider abandoning everything was that he was going to lose _Prompto_.

He did anyway.

He kept losing him, over and over and over again. Altissia. Cartanica. Gralea. Insomnia. He would keep losing him whenever the memories played again.

He couldn't protect any of them. Not Noctis, not Prompto, not even himself. And because of his weakness, he would keep losing those he cared about.

But he couldn't continue to lose what he no longer had; couldn't lose it if he let it go instead.

He approached the bed then, and kept the clear of his throat just short of audible. "It would be rude of me to ask that you take leave of my bed so soon. I'll still inform you that I need to sleep, and that bed only has room for _one_."

That's it. Prompto would leave like he had before. It had to be easy.

It wasn't. "Mm, you sure about that?"

"Yes. Quite sure." _Please go. You've already taken all that I was with you. I have nothing more._

"Huh… There's a good spot you can rest on, though."

"Is there really?" _Please, please, please..._

"Yeah. Give me your hand, and I'll show you."

There was the faintest twitch of concern to Ignis's brows, but he held his hand for Prompto to take anyway. At once, he felt the brush of a thumb over his knuckles, and felt the press of downy lips on his fingertips that made his breath catch. Warm skin, a soft cheek as Prompto guided Ignis's hand to touch his face.

The memory of what Prompto looked like came back in sparks and flares. The constellation of freckles on his skin. His unruly flaxen hair. His eyes a glimmering and deep blue. And then more; the steady pulse Ignis could feel beneath his fingers, the slope of his collarbone, muscles taut and defined and wait why wasn't he feeling any fabric by now?

A gasp left Ignis's lips when his hand was moved further down. His mouth went dry. He tried to think of anything else to disguise his reaction but nothing came to mind.

He'd had the mistaken notion that at least _those_ feelings for Prompto had cooled over time. They did no such thing. And he desperately hoped that Prompto hadn't noticed, but judging from that _unmistakably proud_ note to the blond's hum, he did.

The visor came off first. It would've gotten in the way otherwise, when Prompto's fingers caressed Ignis's cheek, then cradled the back of his head and coaxed him close enough for their lips to meet.

Prompto tasted like he looked; sweet and full and bold and _enticing_ with **heat** buried beneath the surface and building up by the second. One taste, and Ignis was back to an early June morning a decade ago, brushing the hair away from Prompto's face, watching sleepy eyes flutter open and widen to surprise when offered a serving of beef stew, the nod of understanding when Ignis pressed a finger to his lips to keep quiet about it, the stunning smile in return that was equal parts gratitude and mischief.

He was being kissed back just as eagerly, though he wondered why; Prompto was one thing. He was _good._ Ignis knew, however, that _he_ had begrudgingly gained a predilection for quickly-roasted Ebony and sacrificed taste for convenience while he morbidly awaited the day he'd be found slumped over his desk from his self-imposed workload, survived only by the combined half-life of the drink still in his system.

Prompto gave a soft grumble and pulled away. "You're doing it."

"Doing what?"

"Over-thinking."

"I… I'm sorry." Maybe it didn't much matter _why_ he was being kissed, so long as Prompto didn't stop. Their lips found each other again, and he got his arms around Prompto's shoulders, pressing close as the other leaned back onto the bed. He moved to straddle him then, but a gentle smile and a hand on his chest made him pause.

"If you wanna make it up to me, lose the clothes. You're _overdressed_ for this occasion."

Gods, Ignis could _hear_ the wink and the grin in that. It made his face flush and his blood rush southward. In his life, he'd never imagine Prompto would be so forward, but that voice alone provided ample motivation for him to take his shirt off. He would have done the same to his pants, but was stopped by hands grasping his own, and warm breath skimming his ear.

"Ah-ah- _ah_ … Let _me_ handle that."

Ignis didn't **dare** think of just who Prompto sounded like. He pushed it out of mind, and allowed himself to feel the kisses at his neck and jawline that made his skin tingle. Quietly reveled in the feel of his pants slipping down past his thighs, and fast hands reaching and finding what they needed to. He stifled a groan as Prompto began to tease his cock beneath the fabric of his underwear.

Perhaps repressing that sound was not the right action to take, but he could only base that little theory off the fact that Prompto seemed even _more_ insistent in his actions, nipping at Ignis's earlobe, marking his neck with more than just kisses, trailing his thumb over the spot he _knew_ was sensitive until Ignis's cock strained at the touch and he let out a more audible moan.

" _There_ you go … Don't hold back."

No need to wonder what more the blond had planned; the boxer briefs were slid down next, and he grasped the brunet's arousal in full.

Ignis understood then, why this was described as if one's nerves were set aflame with a touch. He was more excited from this than he thought he had any right to be. The sounds to go with his sensations were more lewd than even in his fantasies: skin on skin as Prompto's fingers glided across his shaft, flesh wet from liberally-dripping pre-cum. He had plenty of reasons to make noise then, to vocalize the things he'd never thought would actually leave his mouth within earshot of another.

With each second, the heat that was building deep within him got more unbearable, made his voice sound more desperate, until … Prompto stopped.

Ignis didn't think he had it in him to _whimper,_ but that was what left his lips. Whimpers, weak and needy as he sought his release. _Please, don't stop, just finish me, I'm so close..._

He hadn't realized he said _that_ out loud until he heard Prompto's breathless chuckle. "You really wanted just my fingers? I've got so much more than that to give you."

"Then whatever it is, give it!" The words tumbled out of him then and he knew it. "I want you, and I want more."

Prompto finished undressing him as they got back onto the bed, and they left the clothes in a haphazard pile. They were lost in each other once more, teeth nibbling at lips, fingers threading through each others' hair, tongues sliding together, against, around, over, under each other, in a dance so elegant despite the desperation it was born from.

He felt Prompto's smirk, and the blond pulled away to whisper, "Can't believe you were keeping this a secret from me, Iggy."

Ignis tried to catch what breath he could, and managed enough to echo, "A secret…?" Even he was wondering what it was, but the squeeze to his ass suggested the answer.

"Something this nice, under those pants? Come on... "

Ignis found himself chuckling. "It's not like we could have done this earlier."

"You sure? You always would wake up earlier than the guys when we camped together. And even when we rented out a room. Could've at least 'forgotten' your pants one morning while you paced around..."

"And give you a free peek?"

"Yeah, that's the idea."

"Perhaps you're-" the feel of Prompto's teeth grazing his neck made his heart skip a beat, "perhaps you're right. I should have done that. Or even rented a room for only the two of us."

"Oooh, now _that's_ bold… you think they would have noticed?"

"Gladio would suspect something. Noct wouldn't have given it a second thought. But if that didn't clue them in, _we_ would have."

A gasp of feigned shock. " 'We'? That sounds like too many people involved."

"No, that's just enough. I wouldn't touch myself with you there."

"Not even if I asked?"

"Not even if you asked."

"Ouch. But I see your point. Why do that, when you could get this?"

There was a ghostlike brush of fingertips at Ignis's entrance, and the flutterof that sensitive area earned another whine from him. He began rocking his hips, hoping his movements would tempt Prompto to sink his fingers inside.

Temptation resisted, for now. Instead there was the slide of a drawer opening, fingers searching for something, followed by the drawer going shut. The slow swish of something fluid lapping at the sides of its container.

"Had this already here, huh?" Prompto's tone was both teasing and impressed. "Did you ever…?"

"No," Ignis's admission came with a shake of the head. "I've… only ever been by myself in this apartment." Sensing that Prompto would say something in reply, he added, "The thought of _you_ kept me from feeling the worst of my solitude."

( Prompto _had_ been a second away from saying _You must have been lonely,_ but that addition made him quiet. )

Ignis said nothing more, letting that particular truth settle. Thoughts of the past kept him company. There were times those thoughts were less the truth as it happened, so much as they were conjured ideas of things he could have done or said differently to change the current present.

And… as much as he despised the memories that reminded him of his failures, he could never part with them. Not when it came to Prompto. Something else would take over and the memory would change to something more heated, urgent, raw, _blissful_. The 'memories' then stopped being about changing the past or the future in the long run, instead enjoying what bits of the present they could.

In reality it had only been a few seconds, before Prompto asked, "You thought of me, huh?" He already knew the answer, but he just wanted to hear it again out loud.

Ignis would give him that. "Yes."

"And… did I do _this?_ "

A click of the bottle, then the cool of infused oil was poured in a stream along the cleft of his rear. Fingers delved once more and spread the slick along, and circled his puckered ring, toyed with it.

"Y- _yessss?_ " Ignis hissed in response. The feel of those fingers caused another bout of quivering, and he _tried_ to keep his neediness to a minimum, though he didn't make any promises about it. He was pushing back against those fingers, one more attempt to get them inside.

Temptation indulged, this time, though Prompto started first by applying a gentle pressure to the entrance until he felt it 'give', and even then stuck only a finger in, up to the first knuckle. That alone earned a gasp and more desperate squirming as Ignis made a futile attempt to hide how his cock twitched at that invading digit. Then it went deeper, all the way in to the third knuckle, and the brunet buried his face into the crook of the blond's neck and breathed what sounded like a sigh of contentment.

"This too, I'm guessing?" Prompto was ever so inquisitive.

"Mm… _mm-hmm._ "

Ignis let out a partially muffled sob as the finger was withdrawn. He missed the feel of it already.

Prompto seemed in-tune with what those wordless noises meant, and he slid his finger back in. The resistance to his entry was still there, but it didn't matter so long as he took his time to wear that resistance down. That was something he seemed to know how to do perfectly, _patiently,_ only pressing in when he felt the muscles give way to him, and he would go slow on the way out as well, taking each agonizing second to stroke those walls.

"You feel _amazing,_ Iggy," he whispered.

"Hn?" Ignis lifted his head from its newfound hiding spot.

A short laugh escaped Prompto next, and he repeated, "You feel … ah, what's a word _you'd_ use … _exquisite_ , that's it..." He picked up his pace as he spoke. "That's the right word. Feels like you're pulling my finger in, and you're warm, too... "

"I…" Ignis took a deep breath, "I'm glad it feels that way for you. If there's anything more I can do, then-"

"Nn-nn." Prompto shook his head. "None of that, now. Let me take care of you this time."

If that was what he wanted, then Ignis would oblige by allowing himself to simply feel, and let his body react naturally. He didn't want to over-think this like he had earlier.

A second finger joined the first in their exploration, and that had Ignis's hips moving in time to the thrusts. He relished the fact that Prompto was already undressed; nothing stopped their contact as he ground up against him.

His hands roamed the blond's body, and he took his time forming a picture of it in his mind. He realized, he'd never truly gotten the complete picture of what Prompto looked like. His face, hair, eyes, of course. Soft lips, a lovely smile, biceps that begged to be touched, but everything else? Underneath clothing, usually. He remembered the texture of Prompto's clothing, but now? Rippling muscles, smooth and dewy skin, the faint and faded bump of a scar near the shoulder... he wouldn't ask where that scar was from, and silently accepted that they'd been through so much from Altissia onward, and changed further in the ten years they were apart until they reunited in Insomnia. It didn't matter, anyway. They were both here, now. He would enjoy this.

"This is… different," he breathed.

"That difference… good, or bad?" There was an undeniable smile there.

" _Wonderful._ "

"So are you. Don't forget that."

Later, after this was done, Ignis would affectionately call Prompto out for being a sneaky bastard. For now, he was too enthralled by both the compliment that came from the blond's lips, and the subsequent kiss after. Distracted by those things, to tell the truth, because Prompto slid a **third** finger into his ass and earned one _hell_ of a moan from him.

"Heh, didn't know you had that kind of noise in you, Ignis."

"There's-" he attempted to gather his breath, acutely aware that everything was growing hotter and that he was sweating, "there's still much you don't know about me. Care to find out?"

"With pleasure."

Ignis remembered what stars looked like. He had to still know what they were, otherwise there was nothing else to describe the sparks of light he was seeing on the backs of his eyelids each time Prompto worked his fingers and stroked his trembling walls, teased that sweet spot just within reach, caused his hips to buck and his cock to spurt out more pre-cum in anticipation for what would happen next.

He could feel it. That familiar coil of heat building in the pit of him that would come undone with just the right amount of pressure, to tip him past the point of no return.

He was rocking his hips. Moaning with abandon. So close, so close, so _close_ -

Prompto stopped. Again.

Ignis cried out in betrayal.

There was an almost dark chuckle from Prompto. "I told you I had more than just my fingers to give you. But… maybe you should tell me what it is _you_ want, aside from just these..."

"You know full well what I want," Ignis moaned, hunger laced in every single letter of those words.

"Oh, you're right, I _do_ , but I want to hear _you_ say it. It's so much more _fun_ that way." That easy, lilting drawl to Prompto's voice would have made lesser men reach their peak from the sound alone. It was the only thing Ignis could think of at that moment, so he could pride himself on not having done exactly that yet.

"I…"

"You...?"

Ignis bit his lip. He felt tingly all over. "I want..." He thought he would be able to say it out loud, but he didn't want to sound vulgar. Therefore, it was as if his tongue tied itself into a knot not to say it. Self-conscious, at this stage? Yeah, he thought it was ridiculous too.

Prompto laughed. "You're way too cute."

"What?"

"You're _pouting_. It's adorable."

"Ah…" He was starting to wonder what was coming over him. This was a new experience for sure, but he hadn't expected so many unfamiliar things. He was making expressions he hadn't before, saying things that he thought wouldn't leave the confines of his imagination, and things he hadn't even conceived of.

This was… unlike him?

But who was he?

Tactician, adviser, cook, medic, daemon hunter, administrator, and a load of other things besides. Composed, rational, and rooted in logic for 'just two occasions' if those occasions were _all day_ and _all night_. No idea passed his mind if it hadn't at least five alternate options attached in case of emergency - even his contingencies had contingencies. And even then, chances were that it would stay in mind; he only let his _best_ ideas come to light.

All this was unplanned. All of _this._ He hadn't a clue how to navigate this and was trying to fall back onto things he knew to do ( _take care of others, be mindful, don't fool around, consider your reputation_ ) but now Prompto was leading him and trying to unravel the tension that he'd relied on to keep him upright and whole and sane, reputation be damned.

Gods, who was he without all that stress?

He wished to know and yet was hesitant to cross that bridge, afraid of who he'd find on the other side.

For now he was being guided with a hand to his hip. "Up." A simple command. He lifted his ass up and felt the cold of more lube being poured, picked up the sweet and heady scent of it, then Prompto's fingers spread most of it along like before. Meant to be soothing, certainly, but Ignis was still trembling. Fear? Anticipation? Both?

There were slick, wet noises next. A familiar sound, but no feeling to accompany it.

Ignis pouted again, this time perfectly aware of the face he was making. "Really? How rude. I'm right here."

"Yeah… _really,_ " Prompto groaned as he pleasured himself. "I thought about it for a bit… wanted to keep this a surprise. But don't worry, baby. I'm not gonna finish like this. I said I'd take care of you."

Baby. Prompto called him _baby._ Why did that sound so hot coming out of his mouth? The tingling feeling was growing unbearable. Wait, what was the surprise he mentioned?

Ignis was trying to gather all his thoughts before they scurried away from him. He felt the tip of Prompto's cock at his entrance, though, and he dropped every single one. Careful as ever, the blond wasn't pressing in, merely rubbing the wet tip against the fluttering ring, so that wasn't the issue. The brunet reached behind himself, movement slow and tentative for what he knew was there. His fingertips caught the feel of slicked flesh, he pressed against it more firmly, and at _that_ touch, what breath he had left his lungs.

He truly hadn't gotten the full picture of what Prompto looked like. Especially not _there_. That cock was **thick** , throbbing, teeming with veins. Rivulets of pre-cum stained Ignis's fingers. That, combined with the copious slick of oil? Prompto said he wouldn't finish himself off, but now Ignis wouldn't have been surprised if he did it anyway. Hell, Ignis _himself_ was tempted to finish Prompto that way. He was impressive and imposing and _gods_ his cock was practically begging for a good workout.

But,

Wait,

… Prompto was planning on …

The press of that tip to Ignis's entrance again made him groan, "You must be joking."

"Not kidding you, babe. That's all me."

Ignis licked his lips, then remembered he was supposed to sound indignant, "You're one to talk about keeping secrets. This one is quite… big." Understatement of a lifetime, that.

"Maybe I should've worn clown shoes back then to warn you. That'd make it _real_ obvious."

"Either too obvious, or construed as overcompensating. Regardless, I wouldn't believe it off of just shoes."

"Fair enough. You wouldn't be caught dead letting me dress that bad anyway."

A firm hold was on Ignis's hips. Keeping him steady. More pressure to that puckered ring. Gods, they were really going to _do this._

Then everything seemed to click together. It was as if a faint undercurrent of electricity had snuck its way under his skin, serving as a harbinger for the bolt that struck.

There was something about Prompto _now_ that he had seen hints of long ago, during the sparring matches they would have with each other in the early hours of the morning to keep their minds and bodies sharp.

Ignis could recall that Prompto's time training as a Crownsguard was limited, significantly late in comparison to the trainings that Ignis and Gladio received. Prompto carried that awareness more than anyone, and found the solution was to hone his skill in close-quarters combat in case his firearm failed him for whatever reason, building up in places he found himself lacking in, so he wasn't a liability to the group.

Ignis could recall the first time ever that Prompto made his request, downcast gaze and murmured words, as if Prompto feared wasting his time with such a thing, playing outside of his role as their gunner. ( He hadn't realized then, that there was a reason that Prompto had requested _his_ help and not Gladio's. ) There was little reason to fear; Ignis thought nothing of it, and they set to sparring every morning. There was something about Prompto then.

Ignis hadn't been sure how to describe it when he first glimpsed it, nor had he found the words for how it made him feel.

He had the words now.

He was **unbelievably** turned on.

The way Prompto moved in the past, was like he'd unearthed bits and pieces of something buried in his subconscious that allowed his movements to simply flow. When Prompto really lost himself in the sparring matches, his blows were direct. His hits were hard, movements were snap-quick, dodges were efficient to clear away from the hit and poise him for a counter.

No, it was wrong to say Prompto 'lost himself' in those situations. He _found_ himself. In those matches, he was unburdened by doubt.

That was him now, all the time. Not only in battle, but everywhere else. His actions, words too. And he _knew_ it.

That was where the feeling was coming from. That strength, that confidence. It was so **hot**. And Ignis needed it more than anything.

He reached out to stroke Prompto's cheek, and whispered- _pleaded_ \- his name.

Prompto turned his head enough to press his lips to Ignis's hand and hummed in curiosity.

"I… I need you to make me yours, in every way possible… I want to belong to you."

Ignis could feel the smile against his palm. That was what Prompto wanted to hear. The blond brought Ignis's hips down, pushed against him and -

Ignis's pleasure came out in vaguely coherent groans as he felt himself stretched open, heat building in him when the whole of Prompto's cockhead made its way inside with a popping sensation. There was nothing else for a while as they both waited for him to adjust, but soon an ache for more overtook him and he moved, trying to get Prompto in deeper.

Prompto couldn't hide his own pleasure as he slid further into Ignis's walls; they clenched tight around his cock as they engulfed every inch of it. Once he bottomed out, he held still for a few more seconds to let Ignis adjust once more, running his hands up and down his lover's back, whispering sweet nothings and praise. He pulled out until just the head was inside, then buried himself back in. He kept a slow pace as he held Ignis still.

Ignis could only think that Prompto was right in his choice of word. It was _exquisite_ , the way the blond split him open with each thrust, and filled him so thoroughly. It made him ache for more, it made him want to push back on that thick, solid cock, it made him want to impale himself on it. He wanted all that, but it was up to Prompto to give it to him, to care for him in that way. Such need came out in soft whimpers of frustration.

"Please, _please_ …"

Prompto leaned close to nibble at Ignis's ear, and growled into it, " 'Please', what?"

Gods that noise was so perfect- " _Fuck_ me… Harder, faster, I _need_ it..."

Suddenly Ignis was flipped over onto his back. In this position, Prompto all but slammed into him, thrusts relentless and unyielding. A guttural cry escaped Ignis's throat as he was filled with an urgency he couldn't imagine, as his sweet spot was pounded into, and he clung to Prompto and dug his nails into the blond's back.

Rather than be deterred by the reaction, Prompto reveled in it, it was only more motivation. "That's it, baby… You're so hot, tight, perfect for me…"

There was more than that to Prompto's words, possessive growls of how Ignis would be his forever, how such soft walls were made to have his cock in them, how he intended to leave Ignis deliciously sore in the morning and thinking only of what happened the night before.

All that would have made Ignis blush had he heard another say it in his presence, but coming from Prompto's mouth seemed like a previously-unspoken truth, and he bit into Prompto's neck to mask his moan at the filthy words.

The heat that coiled in his belly grew stronger the more they went on, and his muscles tensed as he was brought close to his peak. Prompto was merciful this time. He pushed Ignis over that edge with a strong thrust, and the brunet came with a cry of the blond's name. His walls twitched and spasmed, his cum spurted out in hot jets, and that caused Prompto to find his own release. To return the favor, he sunk his teeth ( more like _fangs_ ) into the soft, sweat-damp flesh of Ignis's neck as he buried himself to the hilt inside his lover and released hot, thick ropes of cum.

Only when the pressure finally ebbed and he had nothing else to give, did Prompto withdraw from him, and they lay there, worn out and gasping for breath. Prompto brushed away Ignis's hair from his face in feather-light strokes and kissed his forehead. "Was that like how you imagined, Iggy?"

It took Ignis a few seconds to register that he was being spoken to by name, but when the words sunk in, he smiled and whispered, "Better."

"Thought so." Prompto flipped their positions yet again so that Ignis lay on top of him, and rubbed his back and ran his fingers through the brunet's hair. As the minutes stretched on and they were drifting to sleep, he asked, "how much do you think it'd cost to get a bigger bed?"

Ignis smiled and nuzzled Prompto's neck. "We'll figure that out in the morning."

Needless to say, he'd slept better than he had in ages.

* * *

The next morning had practically snuck up behind Ignis and clapped its hands right next to either of his ears. He woke up with a start to note the overwhelming warmth in his room that could only come from the sun already up, high in the sky, and beaming its light through his window. He'd usually leave _before_ the temperature rose to that extent.

"What- what time is it?"

Prompto stirred from his own slumber, still muzzy from the night before. "Mmm… it's…" a pause as he checked the clock on the nightstand, "eleven thirty-one…?"

Ignis practically choked on air at hearing that. This couldn't be happening. Five hours past his usual time- He was interrupted from the throes of a breakdown by a repetitive patting on his back; Prompto had heard him choke and thought it was real.

"I'm fine, please, just, I need to make a phone call."

He had to practically peel himself off from Prompto first, and as soon as he accomplished that tremendous feat, he pressed a button to call his own work number. His voicemail would pick up, he'd record a message there, then forward it to the senior members of the Crownsguard ( he _still_ called it that even when there was no crown to guard ) instead of calling either Monica or Dustin individually. Not having to talk directly to a living soul on the other end would help him stay with at least a little bit of denial that he hadn't messed up so bad to warrant a reprimand.

So, naturally, this meant someone _was_ on the other end to pick up.

" _This is Dustin Ackers speaking_."

Ignis saw his entire life flash in front of his eyes. Or, the first two thirds of his life, anyway. "Greetings, Dustin..."

" _Oh! Ignis! Forgive me, I didn't recognize this number. I trust that you're enjoying your day off?_ "

The gears in his mind stuttered at the words ' _day off_ '. "I… yes. I am. Just calling and making sure that everything is running smoothly."

" _Ah, you don't need to worry about that._ " There was no doubt that the man was smiling on the other end of the line. Ignis was just about ready to smile, too, until another voice came on.

" _Dustin? I thought I heard Ignis talking._ "

An instant replay of the life-review was in order. As if Ignis sorely missed it. Spoiler alert: he did not.

" _Oh, Monica. Ignis is on the other line. He has a day off today_."

" _About time! He's put in so many hours already that if it were up to me, he'd have the entire_ _ **month**_ _off._ "

"An… entire month?" Ignis thought aloud. "Could I do that?"

" _We'd-_ " " _ **Yes.**_ " " _Monica-!_ " " _Listen; a life spent_ _ **not**_ _enjoying it is a life wasted. And everyone needs rest from time to time._ "

Ignis and Dustin _both_ mulled over her words. ( Dustin could even forgive the interruption. )

"A month it is, then. But I'll be checking on you all in a week, anyway."

" _Good. See you in a week_."

"Thank you. See you then."

The call ended, and Ignis checked his own pulse to make sure he hadn't actually died. Pleased at his findings, he would have returned to the bed, but he caught a lingering floral scent in the air before feeling its culprit.

Prompto wrapped his arms around Ignis, nuzzled him, and purred, "What's that about you having a month vacation?"

Ignis's mind was useful for replaying non-sighted memories, too. Particularly the ones from last night, and _exactly_ what Prompto had promised to do with him. "You… you must have been hearing things."

"Really? I hear a lot of things. I say a lot of things, too. Like last night…?"

Shit, he remembered too. "Fuck me _sideways,_ " Ignis muttered.

"Mm, you got it."

"Wait-!" Ignis was being picked up and carried like a bride. "That's not what I meant!"

He soon learned a _harder_ lesson than most; Prompto was a man of his word.

That night, Ignis sobbed in his post-coital delirium that at this rate, Prompto would leave him needing a cane to navigate through town ( after all that effort to acclimate to _not_ needing one ) , and he was sore 'down there' and hot everywhere else.

The bed creaked and lifted with the absence of weight, followed by footsteps toward the door, and the door coming open. Ignis couldn't help but frown just a little; sure, he wanted that area to be left alone, but that didn't mean _he_ needed to be left alone. His irritation was short-lived as the door came open again, the footsteps approached, and he felt something cold near his face.

"Open wide~."

Ignis complied, and felt the chill of an ice cube at his lips. He had an idea of what to do- he closed his mouth around it and started to lap at the ice, drawing in cold droplets as the ice began to melt a little in his mouth. It wasn't as refreshing as a drink, but it would do.

He found out soon that the ice wasn't necessarily meant for his _mouth._

He also found that he liked the 'creative application' of that ice, and that he was quite the audiophile, judging from how much he enjoyed the sloppy and lewd noises as Prompto showed what else his soft lips and eager mouth were good for.

The next morning he learned that the act of seduction itself was an art form the way Prompto wielded it; though they didn't get up to anything, hearing Prompto speak as if they _would_ sent shivers down his spine and made his knees weak.

By the evening, Ignis was already on his knees, holding onto Prompto's waist, getting a good taste of what his body craved. He learned that he loved it when Prompto couldn't keep himself from digging his fingers into Ignis's hair and would hold his head still to thrust into his throat. He learned, too, that his preference was swallowing and not spitting.

The morning after that, Ignis mused aloud that they were _supposed_ to have gotten a new bed by then but kept getting _conveniently distracted_. Prompto conceded that he did ask for it first, and the distraction was subsequently his own damn fault, but tried to turn it back onto Ignis by calling him irresistible. Ignis appreciated that compliment. Prompto was still a bastard, though.

They got that bed after all- a super king size. Prompto suggested christening the new mattress. Ignis, with genuine innocence as to the implications, wondered what type of champagne to buy.

"Oh… I was thinking of a different kind of bottle-popping."

Ignis adjusted his visor in a way that his hand could hide his words from perceptive lip-readers as he mouthed, "You pervert."

Prompto laughed.

The next morning, Prompto treated Ignis with breakfast in bed. Ignis was surprised that it wasn't meant euphemistically. He savored the ripe fruit, letting the strawberry juice dribble down his throat and cling to his lips. Prompto kissed it off of him on occasion, slow and soft, and they delighted in the act itself rather than lead to anything more. The morning was surprisingly quiet; Ignis found that he liked that too.

The evening, Ignis was reviewing the pros and cons to bed sizes. The benefit to the smaller bed was that he would often sleep on top of Prompto or the other way around. Prompto loved to soothe him, Ignis loved to feel the marks he left on his 'sweetheart'. Sometimes they would spoon, positions similarly interchangeable. The drawback was the lack of space to sprawl out.

The benefit to the bigger bed was, of course, the space to sleep independently. The drawback was that perhaps it was _too_ independently and their bodies fell into the subconscious habit of sleeping as if _no one_ were around. He wondered how he woke up with knees in his face and elbowing Prompto's ribs in turn when he was sure they both went to sleep right side up, but thought it acceptable as long as the blond's foot wasn't in his mouth.

And then, eventually, because he was cursed with the gift to foresee everything except his own errors, he woke up one morning with Prompto's foot in his mouth. Kicking Prompto out of the bed was difficult; it took him a minute to actually fall off of the other side.

That Sunday, they actually left Lestallum for a quick retreat, and the stop of choice was Wiz's Chocobo Post. They traveled there by feathery steed, one that Prompto had affectionately dubbed "Teioh". Emperor, sovereign, _king_. Fitting, considering who had entrusted it to him… despite Ignis's misgivings.

Ignis realized all too late that Teioh was the chocobo that had been given to Prompto a decade ago when it was just hatched. The little chick was now full grown. He remembered the color of its feathers. Not through an actual review of his memories, but because that feathered miscreant stole his visor. After that, he could make a damn good guess.

Prompto had the time of his life retrieving the visor, but not without the telltale click of a camera going off when he got everyone together. He promised Ignis that he hadn't taken a selfie with Teioh. Knowing him, though, he had done it and brushed Teioh's feathers up to simulate Ignis's hair; there was so much fussing over getting Teioh's feathers _just right_.

To start the weekdays off, they went to Hammerhead to meet with Cindy again, and the delight in her voice was palpable and a welcome treat. Prompto was still an absolute disaster around her. It was understandable. It was also a fact that Ignis realized he _could_ let Prompto live down, but he wouldn't. To speak of Hammerhead itself, it stood strong as ever, with more people working there than before and the newer recruits getting firsthand lessons from Cid on how to fix cars and weapons alike.

Iris was among those new recruits, though an itinerant one. Meeting her was a surprise, and she was just as overjoyed to reunite with them as they were to reunite with her. Last Ignis heard, the youngest Amicitia had a stunning reputation as a Daemonslayer. It wasn't quite that way anymore. Without a King to be a Shield to and no daemons to slay, she joined with the Hunters to cull the overpopulation of local fauna ( and maybe show a Coeurl or two who's the _real_ ruler of the region ) and figured it wouldn't hurt to learn how to maintain her weapons.

She avoided the subject of Noctis. For all their sakes.

After they caught up on what they missed of each other, they said their goodbyes. Iris said,

" _I'll tell my brother you said 'Hi'!"_

and it didn't occur to Ignis that she meant "they" _plural_ ,as in, she would speak on behalf of Ignis and Prompto _together_ , so he thought nothing of it until they returned to Lestallum the following day and considered making their visit to the Hunters' Headquarters where the other Crownsguard were stationed so he could check up on them a tad earlier than they would expect.

He didn't think of it until he heard _"About damn time I saw you two!"_ from behind him.

Ignis could recognize that voice anywhere, and he was thankful it served as a quick warning before a massive hand clapped him on the shoulder in greeting. He would have jumped out of his skin otherwise. Or at least, he would have _felt_ like jumping out. He liked to think he had some level of restraint left in him.

Prompto hadn't even skipped a beat. "Hey, Gladio! Long time no see. Miss me much?"

"Not even gonna dignify that with an answer."

"That's cold!"

"You've been through worse, quit whining. So, when were _you_ two lovebirds gonna tell me about this?"

Prompto fell silent, and Ignis took that as his turn to speak. ( He was _sure_ that Prompto even looked at him and sought an answer. )

"I… I'm not sure," Ignis admitted. He had forgotten, in a sense, that the world was yet inhabited by people who knew what they were like a decade ago, back when their party numbered four and not three. People that knew what they each had meant to the other, and how strong their bonds were, how _indestructible_ they expected those bonds to be.

But the world was inhabited by those people, they did exist, and Gladio was among them, and _he_ saw the bonds twist and break, _he_ knew the truth that things didn't stay the same and that sometimes they couldn't be restored, he knew that sometimes broken bonds were gilded over and mended to be stronger, though different than before. He knew that at times, that things didn't stay the same was the whole point.

He knew, and he was still happy for them.

Ignis hadn't expected that. Then again there was a lot he hadn't expected from Gladio.

"Fair enough, this _does_ seem like a recent thing. You're the type to deliver news when you think it's a sure thing, whether it takes three minutes or three years."

Ignis said nothing, and just let out a soft chuckle. He was right about that. It did take a while for him to spit things out if he didn't have all of the evidence. He knew that now more than ever.

"But, look at you!" Gladio's hands were on Ignis's shoulders and it felt like he was just _barely_ restraining himself from hugging Ignis, "You look better than the last time I saw you. Actually eating right, I take it?"

"Yes, better now than before."

Prompto piped up in confusion, "Wait, what were you doing before I showed up?"

Before Ignis could open his mouth, Gladio beat him to the punch, "He was living off of Ebony and takeout."

"Oh _hell_ no!" Prompto sounded absolutely _incredulous_ that Ignis wasn't cooking for himself. "With the dishes you make? That's a tragedy. You know what? Maybe I should take that up-"

" _No!_ " Ignis and Gladio both answered in unison, realized it, and laughed. Ignis laughed harder than he had in a long time, and for once, he thought he would be okay.

Who was he without all of the stress?

He was Ignis.

And that was enough.


	2. Prompto

It was nighttime in Lestallum. The people had long retreated for their evening rest, confident that the dawn would come in the morning. Prompto, meanwhile, hadn't the slightest idea if he was doing the right thing or not.

It was over a month after the Chosen King had brought Divine Judgment down on Ardyn and put to rest the ages-old conflict of gods, at the cost of his own life. Just as Ardyn wanted. Death of all the gods, of the line of Lucis and the line of Fleuret, and no more magic in the world. Part of the inevitable cycle. Everyone celebrated the coming of the dawn. Prompto mourned the loss of the man that saved him.

He could still feel the burning in his skin from the night that Ardyn died for good, could still feel the prickling in his bones when the thrum of Lucian magic wasn't in him anymore. Withered away like ash. He didn't want to think of what more he could have lost, because he held some idea that it could be fixed.

The darker parts of his mind whispered that he had _some nerve,_ coming back to _any_ civilization after the things he'd done. Even so, when quiet fell over the town, he wandered the streets like a revenant. He took in the sights. Did they truly know of how he'd turned against his friends? It didn't matter, did it? Only one person needed to know. Only one person was he here to see.

And at least, coming back to Lestallum was better than going back to Insomnia. He couldn't go back to the place where Ardyn died, where his parents died. His childhood home was better with the occupation of someone else.

He'd already retrieved his things from there during the Long Night, anyway. His memories. His to keep. So for now, he was in Lestallum to hopefully make new ones. To keep himself safe, that hope was stowed away in the back of his mind so that they wouldn't crash so hard into reality.

He found the apartment that Ignis stayed in, and sidled into an alleyway. He scaled the fire escape that led to the window near the bedroom. The window's design was meant to draw breezes into the room for ventilation, but it had an operator arm that extended only to a certain point, to limit how far open it could go. The window wasn't anything like a second door… _yet._ The limited range was fixed with a bit of literal screwing around on his part, when he procured a screwdriving set and went to work. He had Ardyn to thank for that.

He slipped into the bedroom and replaced the screws to put the arm back together, then enough wayward winds flowing into the room gave him the hint to finally close the thing. He looked around; his eyesight wasn't as good at night anymore than it used to be, but that was for the better. He wouldn't have wanted to lose his humanity over some night vision, anyway.

What minimal design. A bed, a dresser, a closet. The closet had minor variations upon the same general wear ( Ignis used to believe in improving even on what wasn't broken, including _outfits_ ), and the dresser had built in little basins to set minor things. Keys or spare gil.

Minimalist. _Lonely._

No thanks to a certain _someone_.

Prompto reached into his jacket and pressed the tips of his fingers to the scar near his shoulder. He still couldn't remember where he got that from, not entirely. When he tried to think of it, it was as if a television screen served as barrier between himself and the recollection: sure, the scene happened, but to someone else. Or like a dream in third person. The one who nearly lost their shooting arm when they were struck by an MT was him in the moment, but when he looked back there was so much wrong and it made little sense. He wondered where his mind had gone.

Until that hazy memory had drifted into his mind, he'd thought he merely _fainted_ in Altissia after Ignis was attacked. Strange.

He bared himself completely and set his clothes aside. Ignis didn't keep a mirror here, there was no real point. Better, though. If Prompto looked at himself long enough he would just keep finding flaws and flaws and-

That wasn't the point. He would… try to make things better in the only way he could really think of. The only way left. He would wait here for Ignis, so at least Ignis would come home to someone.

The bed wasn't too soft or too firm, and the pillow was decent. Not enough for a quick sleep, but it would do for someone that didn't see the point in being lavish ( or giving himself nice things for the fun of it or even _deserving_ nice things or- )

When Prompto closed his eyes, he could still see the daggers that slid to his feet in surrender, their wielder kneeling before him.

" _If it's a life you want, take mine._ " … " _I failed you, more than anyone. I'm sorry._ "

It felt wrong then and still felt wrong now, to have done that to Ignis. To cause his composure to crack open that way. But Prompto had just kept doing that, hadn't he? He'd cut Ignis open and reached into his heart, bared it for others to see. Even after Gralea, there was Insomnia. The dagger plunged near his head. Close enough to warn, far enough that the one that aimed it had come nowhere close to a kill, on purpose.

 _"I can't lose you. If I did, there'd be no more point in… I couldn't…" ... "I don't care! I don't care what you had to do, don't leave..."_

And yet he did anyway. What had been the point? He claimed he needed to sort himself out. He was just as lost now as he was then, only the pain wasn't so raw. Maybe that was it. He'd just needed to think clearly. Think of what was important to him. Of _who_ was important to him. He knew the answer now, at least, he thought he did.

The door below opened with a creak after what seemed like a long time. Ignis was here, then. His footsteps were getting closer.

Maybe Prompto's sight in the dark was better than he'd given himself credit for; he could see that Ignis looked terrible. Well, not _terrible_ terrible, but easily not his best. He had the haggard look of someone whose work hours took their toll on him. He came in to a slightly colder room than he had before, judging by the little bumps of gooseflesh on his arm. He didn't seem to pay much mind to it, though, setting his keys down on the dresser.

"You usually work this late?" The dark of the night had already settled onto the town, and Ignis had come even later still. Prompto wished this wasn't a common occurrence, but he felt he knew what the answer was already.

"Yes. A lot of work needs to be done, still. The rebuilding effort in Insomnia is ongoing. As more homes are remade, more people return to them."

"Then why aren't _you_ in Insomnia?"

"There's nothing waiting for me there. You know that."

Prompto winced. "Yeah… I do." He sat upright on the bed, a sad smile curling his lips at that truth. "Is it too late for me to say 'Sorry'?"

He noticed the mid-motion pause in that split second. Had it been because of the apology? Had to be; he didn't want to entertain any ideas of who or what Ignis had _thought_ he was talking to. Still, he didn't break stride for long, removing his tie.

"It would be, if there were anything to apologize for. The decision to stay was mine to make, as was yours to leave."

Prompto let out a breathy laugh, "You've got a point there." _I wish I hadn't done that. Maybe things would be different. You still had something to call yours, didn't you? I'm sorry for making you think you didn't._

Then again, what else was Ignis meant to think? That the two of them would grow closer felt more likely from the moment they met. Starting with the loss of Insomnia, reinforced by many tragedies more, the only connection to the past they had for the rest of the journey was each other. And Prompto left. Of course Ignis would think he only had himself left to worry about. Gladio might have understood, but Ignis just wouldn't want to burden him with that.

Ignis approached the bed, and there was a soft clear of his throat from a quick outward huff of air. "It would be rude of me to ask that you take leave of my bed so soon. I'll still inform you that I need to sleep, and that bed only has room for _one_."

"Mm, you sure about that?" _I'm here because of you._

"Yes. Quite sure." Only halfway insistent.

"Huh… There's a good spot you can rest on, though." _I can't -_ _ **won't**_ _\- leave you alone. It wasn't fair to do that when you needed me._

"Is there really?" Curious. Apprehensive.

"Yeah. Give me your hand, and I'll show you." _Please_ … _I don't want to be a source of pain for you anymore. I want to be your home, this time._

Ignis was hesitant, but held his hand out for Prompto to take. The weight on Prompto's heart felt lighter already, with just that. He took Ignis's hand and brushed his thumb over the knuckles as if feeling them for the first time, the smoothed-over scars formed from a mishap with a Fire spell when he was young. Ignis kept his hands hidden with gloves ever since. Had them bared now. Prompto kissed them, as well as his fingertips. Guided them to his cheek, along his neck, down his body, to let Ignis know he was real. That _this_ was real. All of it. Just for him.

He heard Ignis gasp, a short and sweet little noise that said he hadn't expected to feel what he did. The way his _body_ reacted, though, suggested at least that side of him _liked_ what it felt. Was it too much for Prompto to say he was proud of himself for earning that?

He reached up and took off Ignis's visor. It would only get in the way if they wanted to get any closer, and they would, and they did.

Ignis still had a taste for Ebony; Prompto never tried the drink himself, though he could get an idea from its scent when a cup was close by; rich and nuanced, intricate, undoubtedly sharp, but with a touch of sweetness to it if one took the time to take it in fully. Ignis was a lot like that.

Amusingly enough, it brought to mind a morning in the outlands when Noctis paced around on the haven grounds and patted his pockets as if the map that Ignis had made for _just that occasion_ would magically re-appear. It wouldn't, because Noct hadn't thought to store it in his warp space for easy procurement before they left Insomnia. Ignis simmered over the wasted effort so visibly that he opted to take his drink hot instead of cold as usual. He glared at Noctis from over the rim of the mug he sipped from, and not even the heat of the drink fogging up his glasses could hide that from anyone watching. Naturally, Prompto had taken it upon himself to diffuse that.

" _Come on, Iggy. You can't stay mad at him forever."_

" _I can and I will. Just watch me_." He meant it, too.

" _I think I'll sit and watch, for sure. You're kinda hot when you're mad."_

Ignis had nearly choked on his drink then. _"Excuse me?"_

" _... Forget I said that."_

" _And if I don't?"_

" _Fair enough."_

He wondered what Ignis was thinking of, now as they kissed. Probably not something as silly as a figurative slip of the tongue. But whatever was going on in that head had Ignis still and put a damper on his initial enthusiasm, and Prompto pulled away. He knew well what a derailing train of thought looked and felt like. "You're doing it."

"Doing what?" Ignis even _sounded_ lost.

"Over-thinking."

"I… I'm sorry."

Maybe that chased away whatever thoughts were plaguing him. Maybe it did better than that; there was a renewed fervor to the kiss that wasn't there before. Ignis got his arms around Prompto's shoulders, pushed him back onto the bed, almost straddled him. Prompto smiled against the brunet's lips and pressed a hand to his chest to make him slow down a little.

"If you wanna make it up to me, lose the clothes. You're _overdressed_ for this occasion." He couldn't help but grin. Something about Ignis made the words come to mind easier- it was different than the jumpy stammers around Gladio or Noctis as he tried to navigate what to say to make them look their best. Maintaining appearances mattered less here.

For that, Ignis took his shirt off in record time. As much as Prompto wanted to see if the brunet could set a world record for stripping in general, that wasn't on the table just yet. He grasped Ignis's hands to keep him still and whispered in his ear, "Ah-ah- _ah_ … Let _me_ handle that." Ignis spent so much time tending to others' needs, it was about time that changed.

It would start here, with an aim to excite via kisses that wandered and hands that didn't. He exposed Ignis just enough to get to trail his fingers along a conspicuous bulge, and he drew away enough to watch the quirk of Ignis's brows at this new feeling, the bite of his lip, heard the suppressed groan.

 _Mm… not enough?_ Prompto tried something else. Instead of kisses? Bites, nips, harsh suckles that left a mark. Instead of trailing fingers back and forth, a thumb that traced little circles along where he could feel the head was, focusing on the underside and exciting the nerves there. _That_ seemed to do the trick; Ignis got harder at that, and didn't try to stop himself from making a noise that time.

" _There_ you go … Don't hold back." It was a new experience, for sure, but it was nothing encouraging words and some patience wouldn't be able to settle. But, _heh,_ maybe Prompto could be forgiven for a desire to _experiment_ a little more. Once he got Ignis's underwear down, he closed his fingers gently around his friend's cock and started to stroke it at an even pace.

 _Man, it feels like he's wanted this for a while._ He'd refrain from an out-loud comment on that, though, and set his attention on Ignis's enjoyment. It was a lovely thing to behold, the quick breaths, the flush to his face, the copious pre-cum, and the _sounds,_ just short of intelligible but no less beautiful to hear the desperation, the _need_. Prompto definitely wanted some more of that. But how to prolong it? _Ah,_ he knew how. **Stop.**

He _almost_ regretted that, Ignis's whimpers touched him so. And then the words- " _Please, don't stop, just finish me, I'm so close…_ "

So tempted to give him what he wanted. More tempted yet to drag it out. Prompto chuckled almost to himself; it would take a while to wear down all the layers of self-control Ignis had to wrap around himself. "You really wanted just my fingers? I've got so much more than that to give you."

"Then whatever it is, give it! I want you, and I want more."

That was a _fine_ start. The pants and underwear were off in short order, and they were back to desperate touches. Slick tongues and welcoming mouths, breaths that mingled in the space between each kiss. Fingers threading along silken hair or smoothing over taut muscle.

Prompto stopped at the small of Ignis's back, and smirked into the kiss before pulling away. "Can't believe you were keeping this a secret from me, Iggy."

"A secret…?" Damn, did Ignis look cute with that touch of cluelessness to his expression. But the answer wasn't long in coming, since Prompto reached lower and gave his ass a squeeze.

"Something this nice, under those pants? Come on... "

Ignis chuckled despite the otherwise crass humor. "It's not like we could have done this earlier."

"You sure? You always would wake up earlier than the guys when we camped together. And even when we rented out a room. Could've at least 'forgotten' your pants one morning while you paced around..."

"And give you a free peek?"

"Yeah, that's the idea." Then again, with the torch Prompto had been carrying for the guy, he doubted he'd be able to resist and keep it at only the free peepshow. For now, he continued kissing Ignis's neck and teasing at more than that when his teeth grazed the skin.

"Perhaps you're- ... perhaps you're right. I _should_ have done that. Or even rented a room for only the two of us."

Oh? An interesting turn of events here. "Oooh, now _that's_ bold… you think they would have noticed?"

"Gladio would suspect something. Noct wouldn't have given it a second thought. But if that didn't clue them in, _we_ would have."

Whoa! Was Ignis really suggesting what Prompto _thought_ he was suggesting? How _illicit._ Exciting! " ' _We_ '? That sounds like too many people involved."

"No, that's just enough. I wouldn't touch myself with you there."

That Ignis couldn't see Prompto's sad puppy eyes didn't stop him from wearing his emotions on his face anyway. "Not even if I asked?"

"Not even if you asked."

"Ouch. But I see your point. Why do that, when you could get this?"

Prompto swept his fingertips along Ignis's entrance with a feather-light touch, and he felt the puckered ring twitch, the brunet beyond aroused and needy. Ignis even _whined_ ( and what a delicious sound _that_ was ) and started to rock his hips for more.

He considered giving in to that temptation. But before that, they had to prepare, right? Prompto reached in to a nearby drawer, and he sifted through it with touch alone before he found the bottle he'd sought. He pushed the drawer shut and took a look at the label on it. Ignis's handwriting, a label for homemade lube. He always did tend to make personal items like that with _fresh_ ingredients.

"Had this already here, huh?" Prompto couldn't help the note of admiration. "Did you ever…?" A bit forward, perhaps, but he really didn't mind if Ignis _had_ tried to find some solace in another pair of arms. He needed an escape from such hellish monotony, more than anyone.

"No," Ignis shook his head at that. "I've… only ever been by myself in this apartment."

 _What?_ Not even that…? Prompto was going to say 'You must have been lonely', but Ignis added, "The thought of you kept me from feeling the worst of my solitude." and that quieted him.

He didn't know what to think. A part of him felt apologetic that Ignis denied himself even that kind of comfort, even if what comfort he could glean from it was brief. Another, more possessive side relished that Ignis was so loyal to him, in body as well as heart. He hadn't expected that, ready to write off their talk of the escapades that never were as frank recollection of lust.

"You thought of me, huh?" He already knew the answer, but he just wanted to hear it again out loud.

"Yes."

"And… did I do _this?_ " Prompto used a hand to spread Ignis as much as he could while the other poured infused lube in a thin stream. He gave it a few seconds for the rivulet to course down before putting the bottle away, then both hands worked the oil along and played with the sensitive ring.

"Y-yes _sss?_ "

That Ignis couldn't keep an even tone thanks to those touches excited Prompto to no end. He could feel the brunet quiver some more, and soon his hips were moving again, pushing back against Prompto's fingers. This time, the blond _would_ oblige, and he applied a gentle pressure to the entrance until he felt it 'give', and even then stuck only a finger in, up to the first knuckle. He gasped in delight of how hot it felt inside there, and he couldn't help but think of how sublime it would be for something _else_ to be there, too. Ignis squirmed against him, and he rewarded that with further exploration. Ignis sighed, content with that.

"This too, I'm guessing?"

"Mm… _mm_ - _hmm_."

He couldn't stay there forever, though. He pulled the finger out and heard Ignis's sob. He missed Prompto already. Not to worry- the blond went back in, and started up a rhythm, thrusting his finger in and out, in no real _hurry_ to invade such a warm and welcoming space. No, in fact, he'd take his sweet, sweet time with this, each second devoted to making Ignis feel every single bit of this.

"You feel _amazing_ , Iggy," he whispered.

"Hn?" Ignis lifted his head, more for Prompto's benefit, so he could look at him as he spoke.

Prompto let out a short laugh, "You feel … ah, what's a word _you'd_ use … _exquisite_ , that's it… _That's_ the right word. Feels like you're pulling my finger in, and you're warm, too..." He picked up his pace as he spoke. Communication was good. Always good. _Let him know how stunning he is._

"I…" Ignis took a deep breath as a wave of pleasure overtook him, "I'm glad it feels that way for you. If there's anything more I can do, then-"

"Nn-nn." Prompto shook his head. "None of that, now. Let _me_ take care of you this time." Ignis was _way_ too used to setting his own needs aside for others. Sounded familiar. Anyway, he slid another finger in to help spread Ignis open. That had Iggy moving his hips in time to the thrusts, had them grinding against each other.

And there was more, too; the former retainer couldn't resist letting his hands wander, touching Prompto everywhere he could reach. The places he'd already known of got a brief skim of palm and fingers, but chest, torso, shoulders… Ignis touched the faded scar, but said nothing of it. Prompto was sure that he'd be curious about it, but he was partly relieved; he still didn't know how to answer the question of how it happened.

"This is… different." Ignis sounded amazed, grateful for this chance to learn of what he hadn't before.

"That difference… good, or bad?"

" _Wonderful._ "

"So are you. Don't forget that."

A kiss followed right behind that, and all the better, because he added one _more_ finger and the insertion of that earned a noise from Ignis that, though it was muffled, Prompto was sure to lock away in his mind for a replay later. He pulled away, quite proud of himself for that one.

"Heh, didn't know you had that kind of noise in you, Ignis."

"There's-" Ignis was breathing heavily and there was no denying that sweat was beading on his brow, "there's still much you don't know about me. Care to find out?"

"With pleasure."

The former retainer had such great reactions to what was happening to him. His walls clenched and quivered, unwilling to let the gunner's fingers go. What little breath he could catch came out in low moans. His cock twitched and let out more pre-cum. He continued to move his hips, practically fucking himself on those fingers. He didn't know what to do with his hands. It wouldn't take much for him to reach his peak from here.

So, naturally, this meant Prompto had to _stop cold_.

Ignis's cry was so sweet.

Prompto chuckled, and he'd be lying like a sinner at confession if he said he hadn't gleaned _any_ of his behavior from Ardyn. "I _told_ you I had more than just my fingers to give you. But… maybe you should tell me what it is _you_ want, aside from just these..."

"You know full well what I want."

Such a delectable moan. Prompto licked his lips as if savoring it. "Oh, you're right, I _do_ , but I want to hear _you_ say it. It's so much more _fun_ that way."

Ignis truly considered it. "I…"

"You...?" He was close. Very close.

Ignis bit his lip, uncertainty crossing his features. "I want..." He paused as if to consider what it was he was about to say, and he … really? He would make _that_ face, of all the ones he could've made?

Prompto laughed. "You're way too cute."

"What?"

"You're _pouting_. It's adorable."

"Ah…"

It wasn't a fault or anything. Like he said, it was adorable. And safe to say, he understood what it was like, to want something so badly only to hold one's tongue about it, held back by the possibility of others' negative reactions. To be charitable with that thought, the four of them had all suffered from it back then, but Prompto found himself more attuned to Ignis's brand of restraint. Raised since childhood to be Noct's retainer, Ignis had his whole life wrapped around the guy. _Noct's_ adviser, _Noct's_ cook, _Noct's_ family… Ignis didn't have much time for himself unless Noctis just wasn't around.

That was unfair to him. There were plenty of _adult_ servants to do the Prince's bidding, to wait on him hand and foot and tend to his needs. Why saddle ( _indoctrinate_ ) a child with so many tasks, for just one royal's convenience? At least Prompto was free of that, thanks to Ardyn. Noctis didn't even think twice about Ignis's situation, he just rolled with it. Then Ignis was so used to not thinking of himself that he'd replace Noctis with someone, anything else, to keep the routine. Iggy happened to like routine.

But… maybe Prompto couldn't pin the blame on a dead guy, for fairness's sake. … No, wait, then he'd have to pin the blame on the _other_ dead guy. Or the _other_ ones down the line… this was sad, wasn't it? Lives dictated by the dead and buried?

Geez, this is morbid. _Now_ who's the one over-thinking?

He set that aside, no good to be channeling his inner bitter old man about things. "Up." A simple command. When Ignis lifted his hips, Prompto poured more lube onto the brunet's ass to make things easier for what would come next, and continued to spread it along with his fingers. The scent of the oil was sweet, and Prompto recalled the flower it had come from, and what properties the extracts bestowed. An aphrodisiac. A muscle relaxant. Ignis knew his stuff.

Prompto got enough of the lube on his fingers that he could use it for a certain something else. He curled his fingers around his own cock and began to stroke it, spreading the oil along his shaft. He couldn't help the purr that left his lips as he worked himself.

Ignis looked none too pleased about what he was hearing ( and _goddammit_ was it still cute ). "Really? How rude. I'm right here."

How did he mean that? 'I'm right here' as in Prompto could be jerking _him_ off, or that he was volunteering to help Prompto out? The blond would take the latter meaning.

"Yeah… _really._ I thought about it for a bit… wanted to keep this a surprise. But don't worry, baby. I'm not gonna finish like this. I said I'd take care of you."

The flush to Ignis's face said all Prompto needed to know, in that the brunet wasn't aware that he loved that pet name until he heard it. _Note to self: Call him that more often._

 _But first, give him that surprise._

He pressed his cockhead against the lubed-up entrance, rubbed against it, even.

Ignis had the look on his face like his heart stuttered. He reached back, slowly, and pressed his fingers to something quite, ah, _impressive,_ for lack of better terms. Prompto moved his hips, pressing up again, just so the other would be sure that _yes, this was real_.

Ignis groaned, "You must be joking."

"Not kidding you, babe. That's all me." He didn't go around _flaunting_ it, sure, but still.

Ignis licked his lips. He tried to correct that expression a split-second later, but Prompto caught that and made another note to self to give those pretty lips what they wanted. Ignis still tried to sound like he was upset, though. " _You're_ one to talk about keeping secrets. This one is quite… big."

"Maybe I should've worn clown shoes back then to warn you. That'd make it _real_ obvious." Or maybe Prompto should have made a move back then and 'conveniently forgotten' his _own_ pants to give Ignis a good show. Wondered how that would fare.

Ignis scoffed. "Either too obvious, or construed as overcompensating. Regardless, I wouldn't believe it off of _just shoes_."

"Fair enough. You wouldn't be caught dead letting me dress that bad anyway."

Prompto so enjoyed their banter. It made things simpler between them, helped them ease into just about anything. He kept a firm hold on Ignis's hips, to keep him steady. Ignis reached out to stroke his cheek in turn. Prompto heard his own name in a way he hadn't before, a way he would treasure. He turned his head just enough to answer that call with a kiss, as if to say, _What do you need?_

"I… I _need_ you to make me yours, in every way possible… I want to belong to you."

Prompto smiled against Ignis's palm, and closed his eyes. The image of this would stay in his mind forever. This moment, of Ignis baring his soul.

Finally entering him, like everything else thus far, was magnificent. The gunner's cock pushed against the boundaries of the former retainer's flesh, stretched him open until the head went in with a popping sensation. Prompto allowed them both a few seconds to adjust before he went _all_ the way inside, and he was planning to move first had Ignis not beaten him to that and moved on his own.

Prompto knew this much: Ignis felt like _heaven_ despite the sudden heat of _hell_. He couldn't deny that so far, Ignis surrounded him, molded to him, squeezed and tightened in the most perfect of ways. What an exquisite heat, that made Prompto feel as if all his nerves concentrated into one point. He would have wondered if he'd come already if he wasn't acutely aware of how **hard** he still was.

Once he was fully inside, he rubbed his hands up and down Ignis's back, whispering sweet nothings and praise. He withdrew from that sweet heat, so slowly he almost ached. Pulled out until just the head was inside, then buried himself back in. He kept a slow pace as he held Ignis still.

He was worried yet that he'd overestimated what Ignis needed for his first time. Sure, three fingers, lots of lube, lots of teasing, and it felt fucking _fantastic_ on Prompto's end, but he couldn't think of only himself here. What if Ignis needed _more_ than that to prepare? The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his partner.

He was going to ask Ignis if he was okay, but the whimpers that came out of Ignis made him hold that thought.

"Please, _please_ …"

Oh, damn it. Was there such a thing as 'too hot when it came to noises like that? Prompto's more possessive side surfaced ( _surfaced?_ No, it was there the whole time ) as he leaned close to nibble at Ignis's ear, and growled into it, " 'Please', what?"

" _Fuck_ me… Harder, faster, I _need_ it..."

With a request like that, it'd be more cruel to _deny_ it.

Prompto flipped their positions so that he was on top instead. Like this, Prompto didn't need to hold back. He pounded into Ignis's lovely body, the room resounded with the lewd slap of their flesh as he didn't let up on his thrusts. Ignis dug his nails into Prompto's back, and suppressing his own cries was the furthest thing from his mind at that point.

Were they waking the neighbors with this? Probably. Did Prompto give a shit? Hell no. Was the fact that Ignis was scratching out a checkerboard on his back going to slow him? Even less. That was extra incentive! "That's it, baby… You're so hot, tight, perfect for me…"

There was more than that to Prompto's words, as he wasn't shy of saying _exactly_ what he planned on doing to the brunet, all the ways he would claim him, and he leveled some praise besides. Ignis didn't even notice his own noises, did he? His sobs of _'Yes, yes, I'm yours, don't stop_ ' and whimpers of _'make it ache, use me, ruin me_ '? Prompto would have to remind him of that sooner rather than later. He planned to make good on it. Ignis may have purposely thought to silence himself by biting into Prompto's neck, though.

The heat was getting unbearable. It lapped at their skin, burned away what little inhibitions they had left. Ignis was closer to reaching his limit, and Prompto pushed him over that edge with one more thrust.

He didn't know what was better: hearing Ignis come, or feeling it. Both made for a sublime experience, to feel those walls close around him in a vise before the spasms and shudders were next, to hear his name moaned out. Only then did he follow after, sinking his teeth into the tender, sweat-damp flesh of Ignis's neck. He buried himself to the hilt and flooded his lover's insides. Stream after stream until there was nothing more to give.

Prompto withdrew much softer than before, and they both laid on the bed, blissfully tired and gasping for breath. Prompto brushed away Ignis's hair from his face in feather-light strokes and kissed his forehead, asked him if their reality had matched his imagination.

The seconds it took for Ignis to respond stretched out longer than they should have; it actually worried Prompto a little. But then it looked like the brunet let the words sink in, and he smiled and gave his reply, "Better."

"Thought so." Prompto flipped their positions yet again so that Ignis lay on top of him, and rubbed his back and ran his fingers through the brunet's hair. As the minutes stretched on and they were drifting to sleep, he asked, "how much do you think it'd cost to get a bigger bed?"

Ignis smiled and nuzzled Prompto's neck. "We'll figure that out in the morning."

That was a _fine_ start.

* * *

Prompto had had such a good rest. It was a shame it had to be ruined with the near-absence of body heat from Ignis waking up as if he'd heard a klaxon go off.

"What- what time is it?"

Man, where was the fire? The blond stirred reluctantly from his own sleep, trying to get whatever the X-rated version of cobwebs were out of his head. "Mmm… it's…" a pause as he checked the clock on the nightstand, "eleven thirty-one…?" The day started _after_ noontime, if anyone asked him. He wasn't much of a morning person anymore.

Ignis sounded like he was choking. Prompto sat up and patted him on the back, but Ignis reassured him that he was fine. Nothing sounded fine about this. He was acting this way over _work_. Well, it _was_ only Wednesday morning.

He had to hold back a whine as Ignis pulled away from him, and couldn't help but note that they were obscenely sticky from the night before. That part, he didn't mind so much. He waited for Ignis to make that phone call and return to bed, but the ensuing conversation was less simple than he thought it would be, judging from what he was hearing. It sounded like something had come up that not even Ignis was expecting, though he handled it in stride.

Prompto couldn't help but smile. That was the most admirable part of Ignis, his ability to adapt to things and make them work in his favor.

It brought to mind when they met. It was a late night with a cloudless sky, and it was a later hour than kids were allowed to be, but on those nights, Prompto was less sickly than usual and all too willing to take advantage of the health boost. He met Ignis on a night perfect for stargazing, but their biggest concern was in not getting caught _or_ ratted out. _I won't tell anyone if you don't_ was their agreement, and they never did, even as they crossed paths and shared letters as the years went on. Their friendship was theirs to keep.

The question arose when they were older, Noctis curious as to how it seemed like they knew each other already, and Ignis had an alibi so smooth it had almost been practiced;

" _We met just earlier today, while buying supplies for the upcoming trip to the outlands. He had a story to tell and I had just the ear to tell it to. Never met a man so excited to potentially be trampled under foot of a Garula just for adventure's sake. That's also why I happened to arrive here a tad later than usual, though had I known we were making the exact same trip, I wouldn't have let the 'rudeness' of stopping him short keep me in place."_

Noctis was so impressed that all he could do was whistle at a descending pitch and shoot a look at Prompto in jest. _"Got ourselves a real motormouth."_

" _To be fair, I was also inclined to give him some advice so he_ _ **wouldn't**_ _get trampled,"_ Ignis added.

" _What, seriously? You barely give_ _ **me**_ _advice."_ Noctis looked to Prompto again. _"You've gotta share your secret. You know how hard it is to get him to stop in one spot once he gets going? Guy's like a locomotive."_

Prompto shook his head. " _Sorry, no can do. Wouldn't be much of a secret if I told it."_

When Noctis was no longer looking, Ignis and Prompto caught each other's gazes, a quiet smile between them.

For right now, he listened to how well the phone conversation fared for Ignis.

"An… entire month? Could I do that?" … "A month it is, then. But I'll be checking on you all in a week, anyway." … "Thank you. See you then."

 _Hah! Doesn't show up for a day, gets a whole month to himself. Score. Time to celebrate… by having an excuse to stay in bed._

Prompto sidled on up to Ignis and nuzzled him. "What's that about you having a month vacation?"

He heard that dry gulp. "You… you must have been hearing things."

"Really? I hear a lot of things. I say a lot of things, too. Like last night…?"

"...Fuck me _sideways._ "

Was that a request? They did have all day, after all. "Mm, you got it."

"Wait-! That's not what I meant!"

That objection was short-lived. Very short-lived. Lost beneath bedsheets and pinned wrists and messy hair, moans and gasps of _I'm yours, I'm all yours._

The 'complaints' later were more than worth it, as Ignis rested on top of him, stroked his arm, moaned in the midst of an orgasmic haze that Prompto would leave him needing a cane to navigate through town and that if he weren't already blind he'd have sworn he was left unable to see straight.

Prompto laughed, "That's pretty fucked up."

"Look at the state I'm in, thanks to you. You won't begrudge me my sense of humor."

"I won't. So… another round?"

"What do you mean _another?_ It really _does_ ache there. Let me rest, I'm _begging_ you."

Huh, aching… he had just the remedy for that. "Okay. Rest a little. I've got you." He let Ignis have the bed to himself, but didn't leave without claiming a kiss first. He went downstairs to the kitchen and checked the surprisingly-barren fridge, then the freezer. Ice cubes! Perfect. He returned to the room with a bowl full of ice, and held a cube near Ignis's mouth.

"Open wide~."

Ignis did exactly that, and again he adapted quickly to the situation as if he'd been told- he closed his mouth around the ice and suckled on it, melting it with the warmth of his mouth until it was dripping.

Perfect, every bit of him, down to the way he mewled and weakly arched off the mattress when he found that ice cube easing his sore spot.

"If this is your idea of getting me to forgive you… then it's working," he sounded as if he were happily resigned to that.

And he sounded better when Prompto got to sucking him off. Much better. He slept soundly after that, with no complaints at all.

The next morning, Prompto had to admit that maybe, just maybe, he had a bit of a problem. An obsession. A hunger that gnawed at him more sharply than if he'd never indulged in the particular taste to begin with. But could he help it? The sight of Ignis turned into a mess at just the _thought_ of what they could do together was… _delicious_ , and actually _making_ him a mess was that times a **thousand**.

Ignis on his knees was a lovely sight, indeed. He slept soundly for yet another night.

It didn't stop him from continuing to be on top of things in whatever topics he could still be on top of. The first thing to do on Friday was to finally get that bigger bed. Ignis made it sound a _lot_ like them not having bought it earlier was Prompto's fault. … Actually, yeah, it was. Prompto could admit to that much, but it still took two for a distraction.

"Who told _you_ to be so hot?"

"Wh- _told_ me? I got this way on my _own_ , thank you."

"You're welcome."

This was a conversation he could practically _smell_ being repeated over the rest of their days.

And anyway, they got the bed. Fitting it through the door, up the stairs, and through another door was a hassle, but it got done. The room looked less empty with the newest addition.

"We should christen the mattress. You know, _really_ celebrate the occasion."

"We… should? Hm, if you'd let me know of that plan earlier, we could have bought the champagne on our way home. I didn't take you for much of a drinker in that regard, anyway. I assume you have a preferred brand?"

"Oh… I was thinking of a _different_ kind of bottle-popping."

Ignis adjusted his visor in a way that his hand could hide his words from perceptive lip-readers as he mouthed, " _You pervert._ "

Prompto laughed. Yeah. He was. Still took two for that.

The next day was a change of pace. Prompto wanted to prove he could take care of Ignis in _other_ ways, too. It put a pause on the accusations of him just wanting to see Ignis tired out, sleeping, or otherwise not doing anything lest Ignis default to Attendant Mode and try to serve him. … That was _true_ , but not right now, okay? Prompto was actually trying to be romantic this time.

So he fixed the 'barren fridge' situation and got fruit, with full intention of consuming it within a few days if not that very morning, and brought some to Ignis in salad form, neatly diced and arranged for the sake of aesthetics.

Ignis ate it all like he hadn't anything fresh in days ( that was worrying, to tell the truth ) and savored it. That he was making a slight mess didn't matter; he wasn't out to impress anyone anymore, he was no longer under that pressure.

Prompto would kiss him on occasion, no urgency to it, just reinforcement. _I'm here. I'll be here_.

He'd eventually learn that those kisses didn't matter at all when it came to sleeping positions and associated comfort or lack thereof; Ignis would still kick him out of the bed as if he were just a stranger, if only because waking up with one's face or hands near an unexpected body part wasn't a pleasant experience. Iggy had a point, Prompto had a floor to sleep on instead.

That Sunday, they took their leave of Lestallum and headed towards Wiz's Chocobo Post. Their ride of choice was the black chocobo that Ardyn had left him with. "Teioh" wasn't meant to be a replacement for old "Hyperion" ( God of Light, Watchfulness, and Wisdom, how fitting ), but he was reliable all the same.

Now, he didn't necessarily mention to Ignis that Teioh was a black chocobo. Not to intentionally hide the fact, but it simply didn't come up. But after Teioh snatched Iggy's visor right off his face and tried to honest to goodness _wear it,_ Ignis had a good idea. It took all of Prompto's willpower not to make a _Discovered a new reci-Kweh!_ joke, and if anyone asked him, he deserved all the commendations for that level of restraint. But he wouldn't resist fussing over Teioh's feathers and getting them just right for the photo he took afterward.

A visit to Hammerhead didn't go amiss. They reunited with Cindy, and with the Long Night finally dispelled, she was just as chipper as she had been when they first met her.

Prompto was also still as much of a mess around her as he had been when they first met. Even if he did get that photo with her after all. ( He spotted Ignis's look, like the former retainer had prime blackmail material to use later. Hmph ).

Still, on the subject of the actual business, it was booming. Without the threat of the Scourge or daemons, and no more gods to hold humanity back with overreliance, more people worked in Hammerhead than before, gaining skills of their own, learning from Cid how to fix cars and weapons alike. Cindy offered Prompto a spot in teaching the new recruits, but he had to politely decline. Skilled as he was with all things mechanical, he wouldn't want to risk not being able to get any words out where it counted. Public speaking wasn't really his forte.

That was where they met Iris- she was among those new recruits, though she didn't stick around in Hammerhead full time. Meeting her was a surprise, and she was just as overjoyed to reunite with them as they were to reunite with her. She wasn't a Daemonslayer anymore for lack of daemons, a fact she was proud about, as it meant that people were finally safe. It was no reason to get complacent, however, so she joined the Hunters to keep her skills sharp and learn more things on top of that.

Prompto pre-emptively made a 'quiet' motion with his hands before she could say anything when her eyes wandered up on his head; in a bid to make small talk, she was going to ask him when it was that he started to wear a hat. There were other things to talk about, certainly.

When they got caught up with each other, she promised to tell Gladio that they had said 'Hi'. He thought it'd be left at that, not that Gladio would take it upon himself to visit them. That other shoe didn't drop the same day, thank goodness. It was in the next, when Ignis thought of an early visit to the Hunters' Headquarters. By that point, an edge of the idea had slipped into Prompto's mind, enough for him to consider that Gladio would want to see them, therefore the shout of _"About damn time I saw you two!"_ didn't surprise him. He turned right around and beamed a grin at Gladio in return.

"Hey, Gladio! Long time no see. Miss me much?"

Gladio raised an eyebrow at him and scoffed. "Not even gonna dignify that with an answer."

Prompto pulled his puppy eyes look. "That's cold!"

"You've been through worse, quit whining. So, when were _you_ two lovebirds gonna tell me about this?"

Prompto fell silent. When were they going to tell him? He… kind of already knew, in a way. He had. Even back then. On the train, especially. He'd seen what had happened in Altissia, been there for Prompto and Ignis both while they recovered in the next days. His suggestion that Noctis release Ignis from his role as retainer was more for Ignis's sake, than anything, seeing the conflict between Ignis's duties and the personal relationships he was forming despite them. Yeah, Gladio was more perceptive of those things than anyone gave him credit for, and it was an honest shame they hadn't listened to him.

But he wasn't here to give them the _I told you so_ gloat. He wasn't that kind of man. He'd asked a question, one that Prompto found he couldn't answer. So he looked to Ignis for a response.

"I… I'm not sure," Ignis admitted.

Prompto smiled, and gave Ignis's hand a reassuring squeeze. That he didn't have all the answers on hand was more than alright.

"Fair enough, this _does_ seem like a recent thing. You're the type to deliver news when you think it's a sure thing, whether it takes three minutes or three years."

Ignis chuckled to himself.

"But, look at you!" Gladio's hands were on Ignis's shoulders and it felt like he was just _barely_ restraining himself from hugging Ignis, "You look better than the last time I saw you. Actually eating right, I take it?"

Ignis nodded. "Yes, better now than before."

Hold up, _better?_ Fresh fruit and other stuff was an _upgrade_ from what Ignis usually ate? "Wait, what were you doing before I showed up?"

Gladio answered that one, "He was living off of Ebony and takeout."

"Oh _hell_ no!" No way, _no way_ was Ignis not even cooking for himself. "With the dishes you make? That's a tragedy. You know what? Maybe I should take that up-"

" _No!_ " Ignis and Gladio both answered in unison, realized it, and laughed. Ignis laughed the hardest, with tears and everything.

Prompto found himself laughing too, even if the joke was at his expense. But he kept his conviction.

Ignis would be alright.

Prompto would make sure of it.


End file.
